


Faithless You and Selfish Me

by breakthisspell



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drunk Sex, F/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakthisspell/pseuds/breakthisspell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even if she’s not one for all of that mushy relationship crap like her friends are, she finds herself wondering what it wold be like to have more than just a string of drunken one night stands with Sokka.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faithless You and Selfish Me

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow, my writing and characterization are both so rusty. It was my friend over on tumblr's birthday last week and she wanted something with Tokka smut for her present, so I tried! This was my first attempt at writing something smutty so I'm hoping it didn't come out terribly!

It’s a little pathetic that Sokka has her completely naked, one hand cupping her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple, the other ghosting her thigh, and she can’t even find his damn waistband.

 

She’s always been clumsy when drunk, and the whole _blind_ thing might be a bit of a setback when it comes to taking off someone else’s clothes and knowing exactly what ties to untie, what buttons to unbutton, and what to pull off and _where,_ but it’s a tad pitiful how her hands have managed to land everywhere other than where she wants them to; this time, she moves her hand deliberately down his bare chest—she could at least get his shirt off—and her fingers ultimately find the edge of the band before she feels Sokka’s breath against her collarbone, and she freezes.

 

For a second, she forgets how to breathe, and she’s not entirely sure why.

 

His lips meet the skin there, and she grabs a hold of the waistband, her hangs grabbing at the fabric. She finally pulls down his pants, taking the underwear underneath them with them. Sokka says nothing as he kicks them off of his legs; he just moves the hair that fell over her shoulder away, trailing kisses against her neck as his hands move to hold her waist. She feels his erection, the warmth pressing against her thigh.

 

She has no clue what on earth an expression of desire would look like, but she can’t help but wonder if there’s one on Sokka’s face now, or if this is just a drunken fling that won’t mean much to either of them in hindsight. It won’t be the first time a night out drinking resulted in one, and she’s sure it won’t be the last.

 

She shifts her body to move directly under him, and his lips stop moving against her neck. “You really want to do this, right?” He lifts his head, and now his mouth is so close to her own, his head cocked to the side, right above hers. She smells the stale alcohol on his breath, hears the heaviness of his voice.

 

Toph scoffs. “I just took off your pants. What do you _think,_ dumbass?”

 

“Well, I don’t know,” he says lamely, his words still a bit slurred, “you could have…changed your mind?” He sighs. “I don’t know, it just felt like the right thing to say.”

 

If there’s one thing Sokka never knows, it’s the right thing to say, at any given moment. Toph knows it, and Sokka probably has some inkling that it’s true, so Toph just laughs. She laughs, a little more loudly than she needs to, then crushes her lips over his. She tastes the whiskey on his breath, feels his heartbeat race as her hands rested gently on his chest, feels his body over hers, his soft skin pressed against hers, warm and close but not close enough for her liking.

 

Toph pulls away, a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. “You know,” she whispers, “you can shut up and get inside of me.”

 

And he obliges; he slides his length into her, a little more slowly than she would have liked him too, but she moans as he does, reveling in the feel of him, and bucks her hips eagerly in response as he thrusts to bring himself fully inside of her all the same.

 

\--

 

Morning comes, and Toph feels like absolute shit.

 

Her head throbs, her body is achy and sore to the touch, and she breathes deeply and steadily because otherwise she might throw up onto the tiled floor, but she tries to shrug it off. At least she knows that however terrible her hangover makes her feel, Sokka will feel the same when he wakes up.

 

He sleeps beside her, taking up most of the bed; she sits upright beside him. She can’t place exactly where he is, but she feels a foot near her own bare shin, pointed at a diagonal.

 

She shakes her head, moves the bangs that fall on the bridge of her nose and tucks them behind her ear.

 

She sighs. When Sokka wakes up, she knows there’s not even a conversation to anticipate. There’s nothing to say between the two of them, just a brisk “good morning” as Sokka rolls out of bed, and Toph pulls the clothes she wore the night before over her naked body and stumbles out the door to walk back to her place.

 

It’s not worth it, not worth the awkward feeling of waking up next to Sokka only to have him wake up next to her and not think anything of it, so she gets out of bed, her head heavy and her steps a tad unsteady, and picks up her clothes up off of the ground. She’ll see him in an hour or two, anyway—it’s rare for any of their friends to be in the same place at the same time, even if they all live in the same city for the time being, so they both agreed to meet Katara and Aang in a teashop nearby for breakfast.

 

She dresses, leaves Sokka’s apartment through the front door, and starts to make her way back to her own apartment.

 

\--

 

She can tell that the teashop is crowded from the second she walks into it, and the noise makes her head pound even more furiously than it had been before, and Toph scowls as she walks through the front door.

 

A hand lands on her shoulder before she can find her friends, and someone—someone with firm, steady footsteps and feet that plant themselves heavily on the ground—takes a step toward her. Sokka, she recognizes immediately.

 

_Of course,_ she sighs.

 

“Yeah, Sokka?” She rolls her eyes. “What do you want?”

 

“I just want to talk to you,” he says, taking the hand off of her shoulder and walking around to face her. “Where did you go this morning, anyway?”

 

“To the teashop?”

 

Sokka exhales. “No, I mean before that. When I woke up, you weren’t there. Where the hell did you go?”

 

Toph folds her arms across her chest, and her eyes narrow. “Back to my place. Why does it even matter?”

 

“It doesn’t, I just…kind of wondered why.”

 

Toph purses her lips. “Because,” she starts, even though she’s not sure that she wants to tell him why. She thinks up an excuse, and hopes that he won’t see right through it. “I—I would have been wearing the same thing that I had been the day before and Aang and Katara would know something was up—well, probably Katara, because she’s the one who would notice something like that. And why should they know what we do when we’re drunk?”

 

“Yeah, but when have you ever cared about what anyone thinks of you?” Sokka challenges, and he’s got a point. She’s told her that she doesn’t give a shit about what others say about her, multiple times.

 

She’s not so sure that she should tell him the truth, but at the same time, she knows he’ll end up prying it out of her eventually. He doesn’t mean to be, but he can be just as annoying as his sister when he wants to know something.

 

“Because, I don’t know,” Toph says, “waking up together, getting dressed and ready for the day together in the morning, it’s what…it’s what your sister and Twinkletoes over there would do in the mornings. Because they live together and they’ve been dating for, like, more than four years now….”

 

“…and that’s not us,” Sokka suggests, finishing where Toph trails off.

 

She nods. “Yeah. We’re not Katara and Aang. We aren’t together, we don’t even live together. I just crash at your house sometimes when I get drunk, and we do dumb things like sleep together. And then the morning comes, and it’s just awkward, so I left this time to go to my own apartment and change my clothes. It’s not a big deal.”

 

Sokka doesn’t say anything in response, and a pregnant pause fills the air around them. The question hangs in the air, the, _“would you_ want _to be like Aang and Katara?”_ that she’s sure is on the tip of Sokka’s tongue—hell, it’s on the tip of her tongue, and she’s not even sure what it is that she wants from him. She doesn’t know that she’d want that from Sokka in the first place.

 

He puts his hand on her shoulder again. “Come on,” he breathes, “let’s go find Aang and Katara.”

 

Toph follows Sokka, and they’re sitting in a booth in the back corner of the shop when the two of them find the couple, and whatever they were talking about before over their cups of tea is rendered forgotten as soon as Sokka and Toph sit down. Katara greets them warmly, and Aang offers a tired “hey, guys.”

 

Poor guy, Toph thinks. The officials who are setting up the framework of the city’s government have him in meetings all day and night. The United Republic’s still new and is working toward becoming self-sufficient, so Toph is sure that he expected to be this busy, but it’s a wonder to her how he manages to catch a break.

 

“Long meeting last night?” Sokka asks him, pouring himself a cup of tea. Katara passes Toph her own cup, and she takes the pot from Sokka when he puts it down.

 

“Mhm,” he answers groggily. “I’ve got another one this morning, too. What about you two?” He asks in return. “You guys look beat. Rough night?”

 

Toph scowls into her drink, her attention brought back to her hangover, her head pulsing. “Yeah, you could say that.”

 

She expects Katara to make some kind of comment in admonishment, for her to say, _“if you knew you were going somewhere in the morning, why would you stay out drinking the night before?”,_ but she stays quiet, to Toph’s surprise.

 

She hears a sigh, long and breathy, and she knows that it belongs to Aang. “Actually, I think I should start heading out. I’ll see you guys later.”

 

Katara leans forward to press a kiss to Aang’s cheek. “Good luck, sweetie,” she says affectionately as Aang leaves the booth.

 

Aang gives his thanks and leans back into the booth to kiss Katara quickly, and as Sokka groans, Toph can’t help but suppress a sigh. Maybe she’s being irrational or her friends’ relationship has been getting to her, because she’s never wanted much with Sokka before, but she still can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have that with him, to wake up beside him each morning, to be able to kiss him without there being alcohol or any state of undress involved, to have him to herself.

 

Even if she’s not one for all of that mushy relationship crap like her friends are, she finds herself wondering what it wold be like to have more than just a string of drunken one night stands with Sokka.


End file.
